Can't Go Back
by TheBrokenSmileXx
Summary: The problem is that I cant be who I want to be.
1. Panic Switch

It's all changed. Everything. I don't know when it all started to change or how. I just know that everything's changed and I guess it's _still_ changing. I just want it to stop; I want everything and everyone to go back to how it was before.

Before Rachel left me and started hanging around with the 'It' crowd. Back before Peyton and Haley left me and suddenly had boyfriends that they loved ; boyfriends that loved them back and I'm just stuck here. In the same place I was 2 years ago. But its different now. It's not the same ; I'm not the same. I'm not happy anymore but the truth is that I think I never was. There just wasn't a time that I've been happier.

I remember back 6 years ago and it was Christmas. Everyone was huddled around the Christmas tree by _everyon_e I mean me my mum and my elder sister. I still had a dad; he just never had the time. He would just wake up in the morning and go straight to work. Not even taking a glimpse in my direction, I remember my sister Millicent nudging my side and telling me to hurry up and open my presents and even if I already knew what it was I would still open it with a massive smile on my face because I then knew that I could actually play with it instead of just staring at it because _now_ it was officially _mine_.

But it's not like that anymore because right now here I sit near my mum's hospital bed on Christmas day and just watch as my mum opens her present that I got her. I watch as she tugs at the carefully wrapped present with her long and scrawny like fingers not wanting to ruin the wrapping paper. I watch her face as she concentrates on the paper. Her eyes are tense and her lips are pursed.

My sister ran away not long ago, claiming she needed time alone. Everyone does but that doesn't fucking mean that you have to run away from it all. Just live the life you've been getting tired of differently. I memorize the moment very clearly. From the second she came down the stairs with her stupid pink suitcases rolling behind her and from when she closed the door behind her and watched as my mother collapsed on the floor blaming herself. It also wasn't long after that when I found out my mother was dying. That I should treasure every moment I had with her that all these seconds, minutes, hours and days where limited.


	2. The Asphalt Jungle Gym

_Enjoy_.

Blah blah-fucking-blah –That's all I can hear or all I _want _to hear- I cock my head up when Miss, Peters calls my name. Everyone's staring at me and by everyone I literally mean everyone.

"Is there any reason as to why you don't feel like you should participate in this lesson" Yup, there is a reason miss. Care to fucking know? It's none of your freaking business.

But I don't say that. People would probably look at me as if I'm crazy or that I'm 'trying to hard' because that 'weird girl' doesn't speak back to the freaking teacher in fact she doesn't talk at all.

"No miss, there's no reason" I bow my head starting to get slightly paranoid about all the heads that seemed to be faced my way and all the freaking eyes that seem to be piercing through me. Do they _have _to look _right_ at me? I don't even blink in their direction when they're getting their shit pulled out of them.

Fucktards.

"Ok, good to know. Now class please copy what's written on the board into your books then you can pack up" I hear all the people around me moan and start asking the teacher if they could just print the shit out. I feel the same way but I don't do anything; I just hurry up and write because the faster I write the faster I can get out of here. Behind me I hear Rachel giggling at something a boy said and all I can do is roll my eyes.

Rachel never used to giggle before she just ignored the person next to her or just shot back a message. I use to admire the hell out of her. The way she had the confidence to do anything or the way she use to hang around with me when we both knew that she could do a whole lot better. So it wasn't a shock when she first called quits on one of our movie nights to go out with her 'other friends' or when she first walked past me like she never knew me at all, but for some reason it doesn't bother me because I don't want to be the person pulling her down. I don't want to be the person trailing behind her pulling on to her ankles. She deserves better.

I rush my writing and slant it so I can write quicker as I start hearing people pack up. I don't finish my sentence and I'm not even sure I can even read my writing but right now I don't care. All I care about is getting out of this room before the rush starts or before Rachel and her 'friends' gather up in the middle of the class room.

* * *

I don't get lunch. Don't like being pushed around, and when people push in I don't have the guts to say anything to them and that just makes me feel like shit because instead of staring at the back of their heads and swearing at them in my mind I could just be face to face to them and be swearing at them with my mouth actually moving.

So I just go to the table where Glenda's sitting eating her packed lunch. We don't really talk; just sit with each other during lunch. It's weird because I don't actually think I've spoken more than 20 or less words to before. Just the usual a smile; which I guess doesn't count as a word, just a friendly gesture. We share looks, the looks say it all. There's no name for our weird friendly bond that you can label us with because we're not best friends. We're not even friends that just say 'hi' when you walk past them in the corridor.

Were both just two tortured teens who just don't want to eat on a dinner table by ourselves.

So I set my bag down on the table. Unzip my bag. Sit down and then start eating. Glenda doesn't even look up to acknowledge if it's me. Probably wasn't even expecting anyone else to come.

As I take a bite out of my self-made cheese and cress sandwich with no crusts I relish the taste of the cheese as it blends in with the margarine and lick my upper lip to brush (in a weird way) away the crumbles of the bread that stayed attached to my lip.

Just how my mum made it.

Just how I like it.

I look up curious to see what Glenda packed for herself today and just catch her as she takes a bite of her baguette. She offers me a sad smile, which I return.

I then look around me and spot Rachel coming out of the line with a tray full of food in her hand, laughing when Peyton tries to steal her apple I then look back to my table and watch as Glenda takes another bite of her baguette.

Ever heard the phrase 'Karma's a bitch'? Yeah, well it's not true.

_Review?_


	3. I want To Destroy Something Beautiful

Sometimes I wonder why I haven't killed myself yet. Yeah, I know. What a stupid thing to think, but life's not getting better is it?

I push my hair behind my ears as I get out of the elevator in Tree Hill memorial hospital and walk towards the room in which my mum practically lives in, suffers in and maybe say her last words in- I shake my head of those thoughts.

I need to keep strong, if not for me but my mum. The reason why I haven't killed myself yet is because If I did. What would my mum do? I know what it feels like to have your sister and father leaving you, but what about having your two daughters and your husband leaving you; in your time of need.

I tighten the grip of the carrier bags I'm holding as I walk into the room.

She's asleep. So, I carefully place the bags on the floor next to the chair in which I sit in. She looks so peaceful, maybe because she's not in pain when she sleeps. You can't feel pain when you're dreaming. She _almost_ looks like her old self, the self before she started blaming herself for everything, the self before she was dying.

I don't know what to do.

I don't want to disturb her.

So I do what I always do in a situation like this I go to the NICU. I slowly slide my chair back and give my mum a kiss on the head before I start walking to the hall to the elevators.

I look at all the rooms as I pass them, each of them holding a suffering human being. I used to fucking hate hospitals but now I've gotten used to them.

They help people.

I smile at a patient as I walk past their room before I collide into another body. Nope it's too hard to be a person. I bumped into something. _What the fuck?_

I slam onto the floor and curse out loud once my but hits the cold hard solid ground. _Shit! This freaking kills. _I look up once I feel a presence and notice a masculine arm faced out towards me practically asking if I needed help to get up, but I don't need help.

I 've gotten this far without it.

So I just push myself off the ground and don't even look at the person as I shove my shoulder into them as I walk past and mumble "Watch where you fucking going next time"

I sit and watch through the glass window as it shields me away from the babies. I observe the nurses as they bring in a baby wrapped in a blue blanket. _He's tiny_.

I carry on watching as they stick on white plasters with pipes attached and as they place the suffering baby in the incubator.

I stare at the baby in the incubator as it struggles to breathe. I notice the baby move and watch as his eyes travel to me.

I give a small smile.

_Carry on fighting._

Carry on fighting, mom.

* * *

I tip the cab driver as I get out the cab and walk into school.

Double English, _great_.

I start getting a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach once I remember that today our class would be getting our grades back for our assignment. _Shit_

"_Miss, Davis this is your 4__th__ F this term I think we should do something about this. Have you thought about tuition?" what the fuck? Tuition? _

"_Ermm.. Yes?" Shit. Should have said no,Damn it!_

" _I think its best for you and I if you start getting tutored"_

"_Sir, can you please just give me like ONE more chance. I promise I won't let you down"_

I walk to English hoping and praying to any god up there or anyone who can perform miracles to make sure I get nothing lower than a C.

As I enter I watch as some of the people chat and as the other ones; the quiet ones. Like _me, _are shuffling about and nervous about their test results.

To be honest I only give a fuck because I don't want tuition. I don't need guidance or help in any form.

I choose to sit right at the back. The further away from everyone the better I'll be. I let out a sigh as I take out my pen from my pocket and get out my English book

… And in walks the fucking queen.

Peyton Freakin' Sawyer, I personally don't see what everyone see's in her because all I see is a fake bitch that tries too hard.

I watch as she walks to the back off the class (_closer_ to me) and takes a seat right next to me.

She smells of something. Like too much perfume and hairspray, I try to breathe out of my mouth this time rather than my nose.

"Okay class… today, the first thing we are going to do is look through our test papers and then I'll call you up individually for feedback."

I watch as he strides along the class as he passes out the test papers along with a red letter marked on them and as the people that have received their test results start shouting them across the class. I observe as Peyton receives her test paper and immediately turns it around revealing a red A, shit, I thought she was dumb.

"Most of you have done very good… whereas _some of you_ could have done a **lot **better"

I swear the only reason he said that was to put me off, he looked right at me when he said 'some of you'… I snap my head around to my right when I hear a **slap! **On my desk.

Fuck...

The test paper, it's turned the other way around.

Okay, Brooke you can do this. Just get over and done with… quick and easy.

What's the worst that can happen? Huh?

"Here goes everything" I mutter and watch as Peyton stares at me at the corner of my eyes.

Oh shit!

I slap my head with the palm of my hands and immediately regret it once one of my fingers pokes me in the eye.

I relax my head against the desk.

I Brooke Davis am going to need tutoring.

_ Review?_


	4. Anthem For The Underdog

_Enjoy_

I don't know what to do anymore. My mum's in hospital, my sister ran away, and my dad. Who the fuck knows where he is?

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention my friends…the ones that left me.

I practically live alone.

I'm living life alone.

Who the fuck wants that?

I guess it has its ups and downs, I mean, now I can do whatever the hell I want. There's just one thing stopping me and I don't even know what it is. I want to know, but I can't quite point it out. Maybe… maybe I can break free of this weird thing that's pulling me back. You know, like in the movies, when the main characters had enough of their shit hole of a life and they just have a breakdown and then change. Completely.

But I don't want to change, I don't want to be like _them, _because then I'll just be a hypocrite or whatever the hell you call those people that **hate what they've become.**

Anyway, so here I stand. In the kitchen, alone may I add? No change there, but wait… I'm holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand.

Yup, I guess I am going to hate one of those people that are going hate what they have become. But what's the point in thinking about the consequences. I mean, I suffered enough of them already haven't I?

I scrunch up my nose once I unscrew the lid of the bottle. How can the fucking teenagers in the movies or even the ones in real life drink this shit?

I bring the bottle up to my noise again and immediately repeat the same reaction.

It can't be that bad, Can it? The numbness that I'll feel after it would be worth it.

I pore some of the bottle into my old yellow winnie the pooh mug and walk towards the tap and fill the rest of the glass with water.

That should get rid of the smell.

Ok here it goes, I try to get rid of the scent that fills my nostrils once the mug is like a millimetre away from my lips, but quickly poor the contents out of the glass down the kitchen sink once I get another sniff of the drink.

How the fuck do alcoholics get **addicted** to that shit?

* * *

Sunday.

What can I do on a Sunday? I can only visit my mom on visiting hours and it's not like I can call any friends and ask them if they want to go to the mall or anything… not like I used to.

_It was a Tuesday. In other words twilight Tuesday, well, that's what Peyton, Rachel, Haley and I named it and we were all walking on the beach as we fought over who we thought was hottest. Edward or Jacob?_

"_Brookiieeee, help me out here pleaaaseeee, tell Ditsy and Blondie that Jacob Is hotter because we all know he is" I laugh at how childish my red head friend can be sometimes, and let out another chuckle when Haley playfully punches Rachel on the arm._

"_Well… I personally don't like neither of them, I mean, that Edward dude looks like he's constipated half of the time and Jacob hasn't even got any chest hair yet. Which I mean is a bit weird considering he is a werewolf… I really don't know. I actually find Carlisle hotter, nothing better than a hot doctor"_

_All three of them groan and share the 'she doesn't get it look' "Brooke. You missing the whole point here Edwards only looks like that because of Bella's scent and-" here she goes again._

"_yeah yeah yeah, let's just change topic to… I don't know maybe the kiss I saw you and hotshot share the other night" I watch as Haley's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, she's always been the shy one._

It actually wasn't long after that when Haley got sucked into this thing called **love** and it wasn't long when the_ twilight Tuesday's _started decreasing and when Peyton started calling it stupid.

I need air… and there's only one place that can give me just that.

* * *

I watch my feet as they slowly start sinking into the sand after every step I take. It's starting to get dark now but I couldn't care less. Most parents would probably shit a brick if they see their child on the beach at night, but mine aren't even here to see. They probably wouldn't even be there to see me graduate, but, it's not my mom's fault. I mean, it's not like she asked to die.

I take a seat near the ocean almost near enough for it to swallow up my feet but the closest it gets is to the tip of my toe.

It's silent. I used to hate silence, but I guess I've kind of gotten used to it by know. Considering the lack of presence of people I have.

I look at the sight ahead of my and close my eyes while I breath in taking in the scent of the saltwater. Silence .

Perfect.

"Mom… everything's going to be ok, trust me on this. Just relax for the night and go out for dinner with Andy or something. I'm sure she'll be fine… because if the doctors said she's fine then I guess she is…ok…ok…bye" and just like that the fucking silence is interrupted.

I try to block out the presence of the person as he lets out a sigh. This is **my** fucking spot, mine.

I attempt to close my eyes again and breathe in again but I'm interrupted -"You ever feel like you're the only one who's standing up. I mean like… you're the only person that has hope"

There's silence. Is he talking to me? There's no one else here so he must be.

"I lost all my hope ages ago" I hear some shuffling behind me and hear him let out a _**sigh **_again.

"Yeah… I guess I have to in a way" I don't reply. What do you expect me to say back to that? _Good for you?_ I hear his breathing and presence get closer and it's not long up until he's sitting near me.

We sit in silence and just watch as the wave's crash onto the large rocks. I turn my head to look at him but I can't really make out his face because of the grey hoody he's wearing. I study his movements as he puts his hand inside his pockets and then takes them out revealing a cigarette and a Zippo. I observe as he places the cigarette into his mouth then lighting it before he inhales it in through his mouth then exhaling.

He extends his arm while holding out his cigarette. All I can do is stare at it. I've never smoked before, I doubt I could. I can't even drink. He gives me a sympathetic look as he brings the cigarette back into his mouth as if he's saying _'sorry, I didn't know you didn't smoke'_

After about another 2 minutes of sitting in silence I take the cigarette from in between his fingers and place it in between my lips, I feel his eyes penetrate through me as I take in the smoke and start Inhaling the cigarette through my mouth but it isn't long before the smoke starts tickling my throat and starts invading my lungs interrupting my breathing and making me cough.

He smirks as he takes the cigarette away from my fingers and starts patting my back making it easier for me to breathe and to stop coughing. He then takes one more whiff of the cigarette before chucking it on the sand and places his foot on top to get rid of the red-orange glow.

It's not long again until the silence overtakes us. _Again_.

_Review?_


End file.
